Just Can't Resist
by PercySnail
Summary: It's Karen and Bill's honeymoon; and she just couldn't resist. [author's note: originally written for ms-obsessive-compulsive on ye olde tumblrs because she listens to me cry about 24 all day, and she deserves some Karen and Bill happy fluff. Large thank you to hystericalwomannovelist at ao3 for the beta!]


She wakes up to the late afternoon sun filtering in. The rays are gentle, muted almost, as they wash over the tangled bed sheets; their glow casting a golden hue to the scene before her.

A tanned Bill Buchanan, slumbering peacefully is stretched out next to her. A small smile plays on Karen's lips as she scans the view - his hair slightly mussed, and a grin on his face, even as he slept. Her perusal continues down - his chest bare, the white sheet pulled up around his waist and she can just make out the tips of his sunburnt toes at the bottom of the bed.

She slips out of the bed quietly and stealthily, hoping she doesn't wake him. After the..._vigorous (ok, yes, vigorous Karen, vigorous, you had vigorous sex with your gorgeous husband this afternoon) _events following their walk on the beach, he deserves this rest.

She slides open the doors to the deck, making her way outside quickly. Taking a moment, she breathes in heavily, inhaling the humid salt-tinged air that blows in. She sits, relaxed, in one of the oversized wicker loungers, closing her eyes as she lets her mind wander back to their afternoon together...

He caught her.

He caught her red-handed, squirreled away in the bathroom, whispering desperately into her department issued cell. They'd both made the promise that they'd ignore the phone calls, the emails, the text messages - all of it would be put on hold during this honeymoon. They deserved a break, they deserved this time, they'd told each other. If anyone really needed them, they had the hotel's number and could reach them relatively fast. They were going to just enjoy this time; a week in paradise with only each other.

Three days had gone by before she realizes she's itching for contact. They spend the morning together, then gone on to a wonderful lunch by the ocean, a romantic stroll by the beach (_picturesque, really, it was ridiculous how picturesque this trip had been) _flip-flops in hand, stolen kisses by the waterside - the whole nine yards.

She wishes she had more self control when it came to this. She wishes she could just trust that everything was fine, that nothing had happened, that everyone was handling their jobs proficiently - but as their walk comes to an end, she can't shake the thought that she needs to check in. Her mind formulates a quick excuse – she just needs five minutes; just five minutes to make sure everything is secure and nothing desperately needs her attention.

"Just a quick freshen up, then we'll go on that drive?" She squeezes his hand before dashing up to their room. She feels bad; guilty really, lying to him, but she doesn't want to be the one that breaks first. Or rather, she doesn't want him to know she was the one to break first.

So here she is, hissing directives to her assistant into her cell phone behind a locked door. Or rather, a door she thought she locked. She's momentarily stunned into silence when Bill walks in, barely knocking, with a knowing look on his face. He cocks his head to the side, just slightly. "Freshening up?" She freezes, trying to think of an excuse but she's been caught and he knows it and there's nothing she can really say or do but look back at him, guilty expression and all.

When his face dissolves into a smile (_and god that smile, that smile could have her dropping the cell phone into a sink full of water if he wanted; that smile was kryptonite, that smile was everything; the way the lines around his eyes crinkled as his whole face lit up first, then the corner of his mouth lifted slowly. She would do anything that smile wanted her to do) _she's flooded with relief. She's prepared for anger – for having to defend her choice to call work_. _She's not prepared for his simple, subdued reaction.

"Let me know when you're done…_freshening up_?" he winks at her, before turning and ducking out of the small bathroom. Karen finishes up her call, giving a final set of directives to her assistant, the small pangs of guilt hitting her at her lack of self control when it comes to her job.

She pads out of the bathroom, bare feet on the thick carpet, pulling the ties of her wrap skirt tight around her. She assumes it's time to face the music; time for some sort of light scolding or discussion about this with Bill. She knew he wasn't upset, the grin on his face as he'd left the bathroom reassured her that he wasn't angry or mad. She assumes he'll lightly admonish her, hopefully playfully enough that they could move on and enjoy the rest of their afternoon.

He was sitting on the corner of the bed, idly flipping through television channels. Karen smiled at him, gearing up for an excuse. He looked up, meeting her eyes as she started to stutter out an excuse.

"Bill, I – I know we said no phones, but I just wanted to check." She raises her hands up as she starts talking, her hands immediately drawn in defense to her hips. "I know and I'm sorry and –"

"Karen, it's fine." He stops her. "It's fine, I get it." His tone changes to a teasing one as he continues. "You just can't resist it."

She crosses her arms in front of her; mind frantically searching for a retort to his insinuation that she lacked the ability to resist the call of her job duties. Even if she was just admitting that to herself, a moment ago, she wasn't about to let him have the glory in this.

"I - I could have resisted it, Bill." She tosses her hair back, looking past him into the bedroom.

He got to his feet, crossing the small hotel room. "You could have, you think?" he murmurs softly, as he takes the phone from her hands and sets it on the hotel room desk; the lilt in his voice revealing the lightness in his question.

Karen meets his gaze. "I could have," she retorts, lifting her chin as she tucks her body closer into his. "I could have," she repeats, softly, running her hands up his side, pausing as she reaches his shirt collar. She lightly fingers the lapel of the fitted black polo shirt (_god he looked good in black) _as she meets his smirk with one of her own.

He wraps a hand over hers, entwining their fingers over his chest as he strokes his other hand up and down her back, slowly. They stand like that for a moment, the room silent until he slides a hand down lower than her back, softly letting his hand linger along the curve of her ass as he pulls her closer.

"You could have?" Bill whispers in her ear, untangling his other hand from hers and sliding both hands to her hips, slowly tracing small circles around her hips with his thumbs through the cotton of her skirt. Instinctively she molds her body closer, pressing her pelvis forward as she tries to get as much direct contact as she can.

Karen tries to hold back the whimper. But the heat of his breath in her ear, the feel of his hands on her hips, the growing hardness she could feel through their layers of clothing – it was all too much. It was almost involuntary, the noise coming out like a light moan.

Bill takes the noise as an invitation, and his mouth starts an agonizingly slow path down her neck. He brushes his lips against the soft skin there delicately, over and over as his mouth continues its downward journey; gentle soft kisses alternated with small darts of his tongue against her warm skin. Karen rolls her neck to the side, breathing in deeply, giving him more access as he brushes aside the strap of the tank she's wearing, nipping lightly at the line of her collarbone as he does so.

Bill changes the path of his hands; running his hands up the sides of her body. She feels the heat from his palms bleed through the thin fabric of her shirt as he moves agonizingly slowly towards her breasts. At the same time, his mouth continues it's downward path, and it's a turtle-paced race to see which body part will make contact first.

She groans lightly when it's his mouth that wins. He gently kisses a small path down the swell of her breast, his thumbs rising up to trace small circular patterns against her nipples through the layers of shirt and swimsuit and oh god, it's so slow, it's too slow; she needs more. She can feel her body responding, her nipples tightening underneath his ministrations; her breasts full and aching. She sighs, her breathing becoming stuttered as he pulls down the line of her swimsuit on both sides, pushing her breasts out. He's teasing her, it's clear – he continues to nuzzle her with gentle kisses but she's frustrated now and he knows it.

Karen lets out a whine; and pushes back in that moment; rolling her hips against his. He doesn't falter, just moves one hand to grip her around her waist, so he can bring her even closer. She can feel how hard he is against her now; there's no mistaking that he's there and then some. She plants her hands firmly on his lower back, and instinctively grinds herself against him. Her head is still tossed back, his mouth still on her breast and she's gasping at how _good_ it all feels.

And their clothes aren't even off yet.

Whether it's an impulse or a decision or just reflex, she's not sure, but she grabs the hand that lingers on her breast then, effectively pausing his endeavor. His brows furrowed, he raises his head up, and looks at her. And - it's ridiculous really, the love and the light and the pure happiness shining back at her in that moment. She'd never expected this, she'd never knew she wanted it, but here she was, wrapped up in him on their honeymoon – she was on a honeymoon with this man, _her man, _and she'd snuck off to make a work phone call and instead of getting angry and upset with her he'd started to seduce her? How they'd found each other, how they'd gotten this lucky – to find someone who understands the other, someone who just knows. She couldn't decide if it was fate or karma or a reward by some divine entity for the lives they'd saved but she knows that she's never felt happier; she'd never felt more balanced.

She smiles then, hoping that it reassures him.

"I love you," she whispers, her voice hoarse as she tries to hold back some of the emotion she feels in the moment; at the realizations that this wasn't just a happy dream she'd wake up from. She can feel the tears brimming over her eyes as she's overcome by the moment.

He doesn't even look startled; their playful moment turned into something more as he meets her gaze. He doesn't waver, doesn't look away as he runs a thumb underneath across her cheekbone. "I love you too," he murmurs back, letting his forehead lightly rest on hers as they both take the moment to catch themselves. Their eyes remain connected as they just hold themselves there, caught up in the moment, caught up in each other, and goddamn it if it wasn't the most romantic thing that Karen Hayes had ever experienced.

He lowers his mouth to hers then, and she meets him eagerly. It's a gentle collision, but a collision nonetheless. She feels his tongue slide gently along her bottom lip, and she reciprocates; their kiss deepening as she starts to back them both to the bed. She feels the back of her knees hit the mattress and she sits, hard; their mouths still connected.

Breathlessly they break apart and she pushes herself back on the bed, settling on her elbows as she waits for him to catch up. Bill follows her back, surprisingly agile as he hovers on all fours above her. She takes that moment to pull at the waistband of his form-fitting shirt. She slides her hand underneath, feeling his skin hot against the palms of her hands. "Off," she mutters, impatiently. He's gotten her wound up, and she needs to feel him against her.

Bill acquiesces, pulling the tight shirt up and over his head. Karen pulls gently at the belt encircling his waist; letting him know that she wants the shorts off _now. _He understands the message and slides off the khakis. Then he's lying next to her, clad only in the visibly tented black boxer briefs she'd seen him don that morning.

"Your turn," he says, eyebrow cocked as his gaze lingers at the errant strap of her swimsuit. Karen pulls her tank up and over her head as Bill takes it upon himself to gently tug free the ties on her wrap skirt. She's down to the one piece swimsuit and she knows it's not elegant, but she sits up and peels it off of her in one fluid movement, sliding it down her legs and kicking it to the side.

He leans forward then, not letting her lay back down before he's eagerly on her. He doesn't hesitate, his eyes firmly glued to her breasts as he lowers his mouth to the right. He rolls his tongue over a nipple, once, twice, before he sucks it hard into his mouth. Karen gasps, arching her back into him and into the feeling. He alternates between tongue and teeth and it's the perfect amount of everything but still she's so ready for more. He's torturing her though, moving slowly purposefully. He switches sides, continuing the pace on the other breast, maddeningly.

She can't hold herself up now, the pleasure building making it impossible to stop her elbows from shaking and so she lays down. He follows her down, his mouth still on her breast for a moment before he rises up to kiss her again. It's changed now, what was sweet and light minutes before has quickly turned to hard and needy. Bill rolls her to her side then and without hesitation slips his hand down her front, lightly circling her clit with his thumb. He continues the motions with his thumb, giving her a firm amount of pressure as she pushes back against him, her breathing hard and her chest heaving. He slides his a finger through her folds, groaning when he feels how wet she is, how ready she is for him. She shifts her hips again, desperate for him to continue. He pushes a finger into her, testing her. When she whimpers, he pushes another one in and it's the perfect amount. He sets a rhythm now with his fingers moving in and out of her as she tries to rotate her hips into him and his thumb stroking her; building up the sensation.

Their heads are still pressed together again but they're not kissing now, their lips lingering close but not touching as they share deep, ragged breaths back and forth. She can feel his eyes on her, watching her and with anyone else, she'd be so concerned with that scrutiny; but it's Bill and she feels safe letting go and letting him see what he does to her.

Karen's gasping and writhing at this point and he's moving his fingers inside of her and his thumb firmly against her clit; and _god it feels good but more_ and _oh god _she's said that out loud. He stops then, pulling back as he rests on his knees. She feels like she's pleading with him but she needs him, she needs all of him and she takes a deep breath and just says it.

"Now Bill. I need you now." It sounds like a corny dime store romance but she can't help it. She needs him, she needs all of him and she can't help but say it. She tugs at the boxer briefs, helping him pull them down. His cock springs free and Karen reaches out, grasping him in her hand. She wraps her fingers around his length, pumping him. She wants to tease him, take their time but seeing him like this, after what he'd been doing to her; she couldn't hold back. "Now," she repeats. Karen opens up the cradle of her thighs, running her hand up and down his again as he positions himself in between her legs. She helps him guide himself into her and god he's taking his time; inching into her slowly while he watches her, biting his lip as he tries to control himself, but it's too slow and she needs more. She arches herself into him, canting her hips hard into his.

He understands her motions and stops holding back; thrusting into her then fully in one fluid motion. She rolls her hips into his; meeting him. They continue in this flowing dance, her hips arching into his as he thrusts back, over, and over. Their bodies are joined and crushed together, her breasts against his chest and she can feel the length of his body as he thrusts into her, deep hard thrusts and it's good and it's good and she's close but it's not enough and –

- god he knows it's not enough, he knows that she needs more and he's pulling himself back on his haunches, gripping her hips in his hands and raising them up; rearranging them so her pelvis is tilted towards his and he can enter her even at a different angle. She can see him better this way, their eyes meeting as Bill starts again, thrusting deeper into her from an almost kneeling position. She can feel all of him now, he's filling her with each thrust and he's almost bottoming out inside of her now and she feels the pleasure continue to build.

The power of his thrusts increase, and he doubles his pace as he sees her chasing her release. One hand is braced against the headboard as she pushes against it; desperately trying to gain leverage; the other hand running down his back . She's whimpering and murmuring his name over and over, meeting his thrusts by driving her hips up. She thinks she might even be begging him but she's so close that she's almost shaking and she just s a little bit more and she'll be there and -

Now he's snaking a hand down her front; he knows how close she is and what she needs. He rubs her clit hard, and it's not neat, it's erratic but somehow it's just exactly what she needs; and there it is. He's got her in his arms and she comes hard and fast, gasping for breath as she clenches herself around him, her body tensing as she rides out the orgasm.

And all she can think is that all those dime store romances that describe it like falling are wrong. She's never felt more secure, she's never felt more safe than in this moment; and it's nothing like falling and everything like coming home.

Bill watches her, making sure she's ready before he starts again; chasing his own end. She scratches her nails down his back, knowing he's close, and digs her heels into his calf muscles; encouraging him with her movements. He's not far behind her his thrusts becoming erratic. She clenches herself around him, knowing what it does to him and he's there; moaning her name in her ear and he's, jerking into her a few more times before he buries himself inside of her and comes hard. They stay joined for a moment, catching their breath before he gently rolls to his side. He lays his head on her breast as she idly runs her fingers through his hair, both of them feeling heavy and sated and unwilling to move from this spot.

Karen sighs and moves first, pushing back on her elbows so that he has to move his head and meet her eyes. "I'm sorry," she mutters, pushing the hair that's fallen in front of her face back as she meets his gaze. "I know we said, no phones, no emails, no anything, but I just needed to and I'm sorry, Bill."

He smiles again, and there's _that_ grin. "Sorry?" he asks. "Karen, do you really think you were the one that broke first?" When she gives him a questioning look, he lets out a chuckle. "Karen, I married you because you're you; addicted to work and all. That's _why _I love you." He laughs again. "Besides – if we're being honest, I called CTU yesterday when you were getting an omelet."

She laughs then too. "We're hopeless, Bill."

His response is a hum in agreement and she leans in and kisses him again, so happy because she can. She can kiss him now, she can kiss him when they get home, she can kiss him because she's allowed to be happy, she's allowed to have him. She can kiss him and she can call work and she doesn't have to make an excuse to him. He knows her, and it's everything she thought she'd never have.

Karen gets up to clean up a bit; and when she returns he's stretched out in the bed. He eyes her lazily.

"Screw the jeep ride, let's do something really wild. Let's nap in the middle of the afternoon."

She slides in next to him, smiling as he wraps himself around her (_god if it ever got out that either one of them loved to cuddle, well they'd both take a serious hit to their images) _and they fall into an easy slumber.

She hears the door slide open behind her. She turns around, smiling as he makes his way out on the deck in the fluffy white hotel robe.

"Tea?" he asks, two mugs in his hand.

Karen nods and takes one. She moves over, patting the space on the lounge next to her. He could take the second lounge chair but this feels good, this closeness. He slides next to her, wrapping his arm around her as she lets her head rest on his shoulder.

He ducks his head down, kissing her shoulder quickly.

"Love you," he murmurs against her skin.

He could say it every day for the rest of their lives, and she doesn't think she'd be sick of hearing it. For the first time in her life, being in love didn't make her feel vulnerable. Being in love didn't make her feel unsafe or insecure or worried. It was just being in love and it was enough. It was enough.

"Love you too."


End file.
